Life's Not What It's Cracked Out To Be
by rhead-a-holyc
Summary: A collection of crack that you never asked for. Possible triggers.
1. Good To The Last Drop

"What is it?"

Bellatrix hesitated for a moment that went unnoticed by her husband and brother-in-law as they continued eating.

"Some exotic meat. I'm sure you've never tasted any meat of this sort before. It's fairly difficult to come by, but I found somewhere with a decent stock!"

The brothers nodded their heads in an eerie unison that Bellatrix still hadn't grown completely accustomed to, surprisingly not questioning her any further. It was clear that they had other things, that were more important than some strangely tasting meat, on their mind.

Bellatrix was certain that they would find out eventually anyway. What was the point in telling them when they clearly had so much on their minds already?

..xXx…

"Where are you taking those bodies?" Rabastan asked the house elves, confusion lacing his voice as he watched them levitate the bodies instead of burning them as they usually did.

"Mistress asked us to collect the bodies, she did," the closest house elf informed him, three bodies floating above his head.

"Bella…? All right, carry on. She's probably found some use for them, at least."

He considered asking the insane woman before deciding that it was probably unimportant. Whatever Bellatrix did with her time was her own. He didn't need to poke his nose where he wasn't wanted. "Bella's toys, Bella's mess" had been his motto whenever faced with Bellatrix's actions since she married Rodolphus.

Rabastan quickly forgot about the entire incident and where all the bodies were going (because with Bellatrix there were always more than absolutely necessary to sate her insanity).

…xXx…

Rodolphus didn't flinch when he caught sight of his wife drenched in blood. It wasn't and uncommon sight, after all, but he _did_ find himself surprised at the fact that she was coming out of the kitchens. The house elves, while terrified of Bellatrix, were extremely protective over their kitchen.

The fact that Bellatrix had somehow managed to make peace with the little creatures and wasn't attempting to torture them on sight was something that Rodolphus found himself marvelling at.

Kind of.

Sometimes those creatures could be just as insane as his wife, so maybe they were more similar than they had first thought.

Making a mental note not to cross either of them lest they had formed an alliance of sorts, Rodolphus nodded to his wife who had begun to cackle at the sight of a house elf approaching her.

Honestly, he would never understand that woman for as long as he lived.

…xXx…

"It was _what?_ "

"Honestly. I thought you knew already!"

The ashen-faced brothers sat next to each other, trying their best to suppress the urge to retch in vain hope of getting what they had been eating for the last month out of their bodies.

"Besides, the two of you seemed to enjoy the taste of it!"

"Man meat," Rabastan muttered.

"Insane," Rodolphus responded.

…xXx..

 **Written for Cards Against Humanity: man meat: good to the last drop**


	2. God damn I love

Bellatrix cackled at the sound of the levitated girl's unrestrained screams as she stared at the roaring volcano below her. It was a stupid muggle who hadn't even been able to understand how she had been floating and hadn't noticed that she was floating above a volcano until she was beyond even Bellatrix's reach.

It would be easy to bring the girl back to the relatively safe ground but where was the fun in that? It wasn't even like _she_ had been the one to tie the girl up. Bellatrix had only picked the girl up from the spot she had found every other girl at.

The entire village believed they were appeasing some angry God, and Bellatrix had to admit that she liked the sound of that. Witches and wizards _were_ Gods when compared to the lowly muggles, but who wanted to be compared to the disgusting muggles? Bellatrix certainly didn't.

The best part was that no one needed, or would ever find out, what happened to any of the girls that the village had sacrificed. It was absolutely _free_ reign for her to do whatever she wanted.

Which also meant that there was occasionally a girl that looked far too _pretty_ when she was done with her so Bellatrix sent the girl back to the village under and Imperius Curse just to cause havoc.

In fact, she had almost done that with this girl: her screams were just so pretty, but her brown hair reminded her of that mudblood friend of Potter's that had managed to escape from Malfoy Manor only a week ago. That was enough for this girl to have a death sentence.

It was such a waste not to terrify the village with her beautiful screams, though. Bellatrix stared at the girl indecisively. The fact that the girl's attention wasn't on her didn't bother her in the slightest today, usually she rather liked their fear-filled eyes to be focused on her.

Bellatrix couldn't possibly allow the muggle to see her indecisiveness and think that she had a chance to go free!

One beautiful scream or a hundred varied screams, such a difficult decision. She wouldn't even be able to ensure that the girl would end up in the volcano anyway (although it was very likely from the last times she had left the girls in the village).

Bellatrix sighed; her decision was made then. The bleeding and sobbing girl was brought back to the edge of the volcano, snot covering her face as she choked out her thanks.

Muggles were _such_ savages.

* * *

 **Written for Cards Against Humanity Competition** : **WHOOO! God** ** _damn_** **I love _!** **throwing a virgin into a volcano**


	3. Oneself

She didn't know who thought that this would be a good idea. They were a bunch of _Muggle_ children, singing some inane song at the top of their voices, sounding as insane as she did on a normal day.

And she was going to have to spend the entire day with them: the Ministry's attempt to show her that the Muggles weren't as bad as she thought they were. No, they were much worse.

Bellatrix was supposed to be in charge of a bunch of the brats for the day. She already knew that this was going to be more than a _little_ amusing. The day would probably end with her having a headache and itching for her wand to curse the brats into oblivion.

Not that she was allowed to, nor would she even get her wand back until tomorrow. 'Just in case' she reverted to her psychopathic tendencies, or so they had told her that morning.

Ridiculous.

"The wheels on the bus go round and round…"

Bellatrix cringed. Did they have to sing about something so pointless? They weren't going to move if the wheels weren't bloody going _round and round_. She certainly didn't hope that this trip continued _all day long_.

Turning at the feeling of her sleeve being tugged on, she laid eyes on the smallest girl in the group with the loudest voice, and two innocent-looking ponytails that Bellatrix just wanted to cut off her head.

"I need to pee," she said in a stage whisper. The busload of brats had chosen that moment to go startlingly silent before breaking out into laughter.

Bellatrix did _not_ want to deal with this.

Where was their bloody teacher? Right, the man was asleep, completely ignoring the madness of the children around him in favour of catching up on his sleep! Bellatrix didn't think the man even knew of his recently added moustache or eyebrows. He would find out soon enough, but there was a _reason_ she had never had brats of her own: she had considered it, but the cons _far_ outweighed the pro.

The silence returned slowly as they waited for her answer. Bellatrix got the feeling that this had been well planned and probably happened to ever new 'teacher' that had the misfortune of being welcomed into their class.

Bunch of brats.

"Language such as that should be kept to oneself," Bellatrix replied, voice in an equally loud stage whisper. The girl looked confused for a moment.

"Oneself?" the girl questioned. Bellatrix nodded and leaned back. Their _dear_ teacher was going to be absolutely _delighted_ when they all start using 'oneself' for no reason. She had heard that the man took a great delight in correcting his peers' spoken language.

Perhaps Bellatrix would join them, using the word correctly, of course.

There was no reason to deny herself a part in the man's nightmare.

She couldn't _wait_ to hear the screams.

* * *

 **Written for Cards Against Humanity: The class field trip was completely ruined by** **_.** **Referring to oneself as 'oneself'**


	4. Road Heads

Bellatrix blinked, certain that what she was seeing was wrong. She had never believed the Muggles to be so beautifully barbaric. She had never thought that they would have it in them.

Those were _heads_. _Human_ heads. Bellatrix was certain of it.

There wasn't much difference whether they were Muggle or magical, not in Bellatrix's opinion at least; they were still beautiful. The expressions of absolute sorrow or terror were works of art, and Bellatrix wondered if she would be able to do something similar at the Lestrange Manor.

Not on the road, obviously. Just one for her own personal amusement. And Rodolphus or Rabastan's, if they really wanted. Bellatrix frowned, she would prefer if they didn't, though.

It would be _hers_.

But Bellatrix didn't like the fact that she was getting her ideas from the Muggles. She was _copying_ people who weren't worth her time.

She glared, stamping her foot on the ground.

It wasn't fair! It was a good idea too! It would be such a pretty addition to the dungeons! Bellatrix could only imagine the wonderful screams that would draw out of the prisoners they kept in there (hopefully she wouldn't have to imagine for too long)! They would be all the more willing to give up their secrets in hopes to be released (as if _she_ would ever release them).

Bellatrix frowned, walking closer to inspect the heads. They would look _far_ better if they were watered every day, preferably with blood but any red liquid would probably do well enough.

She could improve the idea and call it her own! Then she wouldn't be copying the Muggles but making it obvious how stupid they were for not finishing the idea!

And then she could take their heads for her collection! The stupid Muggles wouldn't be able to talk against her then!

Bellatrix nodded to herself, examining the heads to see where _exactly_ she would need to sever and how those Muggles had managed to hang the heads so.

…xXx…

"Rodolphus, stop her," Rabastan whispered, eyes on his cackling sister-in-law. "I've seen that expression before; it never bodes well."

"I've tried to stop her before. That expression scares me a little, too." Rodolphus sighed. "It never works. It only makes her more determined to do whatever she had set her mind on. We'd be better off acting as if it were the silliest idea we'd ever heard."

Rabastan glanced at his brother. "Do you _really_ want disfigured heads in your dungeon?"

"Ideally, not. But I'd much rather prefer my dungeon not house my _own_ head as well as a multitude of others."

"Right. I almost feel sorry for the future residents of your dungeon."

"At least Bella's bloodthirsty house elves will have a purpose and stop tormenting the rest of the house elves."

"At least."

And the brothers stood side-by-side, wishing that they could be anywhere but there. They would much rather be surprised than know it was coming and not be able to do anything to stop it.

* * *

 **Written for**

 **Cards Against Humanity: I'm pretty sure I'm high right now, because I'm absolutely mesmerized by_road head**

 **Quidditch Pitch: Rodolphus Lestrange**


	5. Pictures of Boobs

Her grey hair lay wet against the collar of her robes, soaking them, as she listened carefully for any sign of Neville stampeding up the stairs. She would lock her door, but Neville tended to get into all kinds of trouble in the most inopportune moments, and she often had to rush out.

Hearing only silence, and she hoped that Neville was still in bed at this hour, she grabbed her wand and waved it around, undoing the enchantments on the lowest drawer of her cupboard.

The box that she pulled out was one she would never show anyone else and not even Neville would ever see her collection within. She had ensured that when she died, the box would burn with her, so that not even a person going through her things would find it. It had no hope of embarrassing her after she passed on, but she didn't want Neville's opinion of her to change after she died: a possibility if he ever saw the contents.

Augusta paused again, listening carefully, making sure there was no sound she had missed the first time. There had been times in the past when Neville had hoped to sneak up to her room and surprise her. It wasn't often, but that was still a possibility.

There wasn't a whisper of a sound, so Augusta turned her attention back to the box lying on her lap. The box itself was old; it was one of the few things that she still had from her teenage years — the only thing that she continued to work on, spend money on, since then.

She let out a sigh as the lid came off, revealing the contents of the box. There were hundreds, possibly even thousands, of photos filling the box — the undetectable extension charm she had placed on the box doing a marvellous job at containing all of them. Her absolute favourite photo lay at the top of the box, and she was greeted by it as the box opened.

The reason why she even kept these were beyond her. Her saggy breasts were nothing like what she wanted them to be, like those pictures were, but she couldn't help but stare at them.

It wasn't the first time, and it probably wouldn't be the last time either, but Augusta imagined those beautiful breasts as her own. Even as a teenager, Augusta had never been well-endowed. She had always been average, if not on the slightly small side.

She had always been envious of those girls who got heads to turn whenever they passed, while she never even got a second glance. Augusta couldn't deny that even _her_ head had turned sometimes as she wondered just how those breasts would look without the layers of clothing. Then, perhaps, if she should stop looking at those photos because, _Merlin_ , they were affecting her brain.

Those photographs were just too beautiful to resist, though.

Sometimes, she had imagined that those breasts were _hers_ only to reach within her robes and be disappointed. Augusta could still remember blowing all of her allowance on these photos.

Even knowing that her breasts would never be like those, the pictures were still far too good to possibly throw away. It wasn't like anyone was about to find out about it anyway.

* * *

 **Written for**

 **Cards Against Humanity: Why am I broke? Pictures of boobs.**

 **Quidditch Pitch: Augusta Longbottom**


End file.
